Title: Searching for the Words

Author: Chosentwo4381

Email: chosentwo4381@yahoo.com

Rating: PG-13, but only cause I use 1 really bad word and have girls kissing girls.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, but I own the situation because it’s my life except for the whole happy ending thing.

Summary: Alicia is trying to find the words.

Pairings: Alicia/George, Angelina/Fred, and Alicia/Angelina

Author’s Notes: /blah/ means emphasis.

Dedications: To my sister Robert, to fixing the little things that make it flow better. And to Dan, who can always make me smile and who convinced me that this isn’t a load of crap. And to J, despite the fact that she’ll never read this and who I love despite her distressing taste in music.


            How do you tell someone that you are breaking up with them because you are in love with someone else without it being painful for you both?

            Anything you try to say will sound contrived, like a rehearsed speech of meaningless platitudes as you futilely try to explain that it’s isn’t him, it’s you, and for once in the history of man that’s not simply a bullshit excuse.

            You really didn’t mean to hurt him, and if you had any control over it, you wouldn’t have fallen for her.

            Because she has horrible taste in literature, and you have absolutely nothing in common except Quidditch. Not to mention that she’s obviously straight, and even more obviously in love with a boy you /want/ to despise for no reason other than the fact that he has her, but you find yourself liking, because he’s just that kind of guy.

            And your boyfriend argues that if you can’t have her, then why won’t the two of you work? So you try to explain that it’s not fair for him to get dragged into the maelstrom of despair that surrounds you, because he deserves a girl that will love him with her whole being, not just the leftovers from someone who does nothing but cause pain.

            And he finally nods, and there are hints of tears glistening in the corners of his eyes, as he tells you that he should have known because every time she walks into the room, it’s like your world surrounds her, is in her, and he recognizes that look, because it’s the way he looks at you.

            Then you hug him, and you cry and he promises not to tell his twin and as he leaves your room she peeks her head inside and sees your tears. Being the good friend that she is she steps closer and all that you can think is that she is /so bloody goddamn beautiful/ and you half-smile bitterly as she asks, “What’s wrong Alicia?”

            Then you tell her that you just broke up with George. And when she asks why you tell her it’s because you love someone else. Before she can ask who, as she inevitably will catalyzing yet another argument about you not trusting her, which will indubitably end in confusion and frustration when you try to explain that it’s yourself that you don’t trust and she just doesn’t /get/ it, you ask to be left alone and bury your face into your pillow. You don’t want to be comforted, since hurt and comfort is all the same where she is concerned and you really don’t feel like any additional emotional masochism that evening, thank you very much. And you pray that she leaves before you blurt out that you broke his heart because you love her and it’s killing you.

            There’s simply no good way to say any of these things. Even Hermione Granger who never seems to lack words would shirk at finding a way to verbalize these sentiments. Avoidance seems to be the best policy of defense. It’s working fairly well until two nights later, when it’s your turn to cook dinner for you flat mates and Katie flatly refuses to let you make the meal and then skive off the dinner conversation. While you’re arguing the point Angelina walks in looking harried, yet somehow content, like a weight has been lifted. You concede the point to Katie and sit at the table, playing with your food rather than consuming any of it. Considering her recent victory over one recalcitrant child, Katie revels in the mothering role, asking you both what you did that day.

            Angelina replies almost nonchalantly, “I broke up with Fred.”

            You look up from your mashed potatoes that you had been quite diligently sculpting into a model of Hogwarts, and she’s staring at you beneath half lowered lids, gauging your reaction.

            Later that evening when you open your door and she’s waiting, you pull her to you and kiss her /hard/ with tears running down both your faces. When you finally come up for air, you have time for one brief thought before she kisses you again, ‘Sometimes not having words isn’t a bad thing.’


Chosentwo4381

Harry Potter

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